NightCap
by Notorious George Weasley
Summary: Haku and Zabuza in the woods. Cute little fluffy one shot. Ne, Zabuzasan, should you really drink that much? It's cute! Read and Review! ZabuHaku


Nightcap

Originally, Haku had only bought the alcohol to disinfect his master's deep wounds from their previous job. It was just some very cheap sake, the kind that smells so strong you should plug your nose to drink it. But when he had brought it back and used it, Zabuza had just decided not to waist it and to drink it "before it went bad". Haku wasn't born yesterday: he knew sake didn't go bad, but what could he do? Yell at his master that he was going to get drunk? So he had just smiled and handed it over, and gone off to gather firewood with little Usagi-chan hopping after him. Now, as he returned to the makeshift campsite, he regretted ever leaving his master alone with the drink.

"I'm back, Zabuza-san," the boy cheerfully said, kneeling next to the fire, in front of his master, who was leaning against a tree trunk, watching the flames. Was he trying to read the fire, Haku wondered, for he had heard of people who could. The only thing he could tell from fire was if it was going out or not. On this cold night, he hoped it wouldn't.

A low grunt answered him, followed by the swish of sake in the bottle as Zabuza took another mouthful. Haku smiled and added a few limbs to the fire. Perhaps his master had a higher tolerance for drink than he had thought. It wouldn't be impossible, though Haku had never seen him really drink in the nine years he had been his tool. Those nine happy years… A fresh smile tickled the edges of the old one into a beam, he loved being Zabuza's tool, being needed, being wanted. And he hoped his master knew just how much that meant.

"What took you."

"Hm?" He had only been gone a few minutes. Oh well. Haku recovered his usual smile and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, Zabuza-san. Just needed to get a lot of wood." Even from over the fire, Haku could smell the stale fermented rice. Trying his hardest not to gag, he began pulling out the blankets for bedding on the hard, cold ground. He hated it being cold without snow. It seemed pointless, a waste of cold air that could turn water into such beautiful crystal designs. He felt at home in the snow. After all, it was his only connection to his mother besides his blood. Even though she was gone, Haku loved her, for it was she that gave him such a rare bloodline limit, one that made him useful to the kindest person in the world. Well, that was stretching it a bit. A slight giggle escaped his lips as he rolled out the thick wool wrapping.

"What are you laughing about, brat."

"Nothing, Zabuza-san," Haku cooed back, smiling to himself. It was their game. Zabuza would call Haku brat, and Haku would try to answer in the brattiest tone he could muster. Maybe pointless, but it meant the world to the boy, that maybe he wasn't as much of a tool as Zabuza would have him think. The echo of a hiccup made the boy look behind him.

Zabuza was standing behind him, giving one of those commanding looks to his minion. The bottle still wasn't empty, but that didn't mean much. With sake, it wasn't the amount you drank as much as it was the pace, and Haku shivered at how fast his master had downed more than half of the bottle. He had never seen his master drunk, so he was a bit afraid of what he might be like. Smiling cautiously, Haku stood and offered the first group of blankets to Zabuza. Yet, his master had a different idea, Haku noticed with a large gulp. Zabuza shoved Haku down onto the blankets and sat beside him, pulling his bandages off to get easier access to the alcohol.

After a few seconds of struggle, Haku found a comfortable position next to his master. But that didn't stop the stench, which was beginning to burn his brown eyes. "D-do you want something, Zabuza-san?"

There was just silence, save for the fire crackling. From where he sat, Haku could barely feel it, and so he gripped his clothes closer to him. Usagi-chan was already asleep, snuggled up at the base of the large sword, inside an empty bag. They were still two days from any town. If anything happened there, there would be no hope. But, what was he so worried about? Zabuza-san would never hurt him, however unpredictable he might be when under the influence. Then why was Haku jittery?

"Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" Zabuza slurred out, giving his tool a sideways look. Haku stared back at him, taken off-guard by the question, then laughing in the awkwardness of the moment. "What do you mean, Zabuza-san?"

Before answering, Zabuza took another healthy (or unhealthy, rather) swig. "You always get ready for bed. You take off your outer layer, then let your hair down, brush it, lie down, flip over twice, sigh, and fall asleep."

Haku was both flattered and confused by how precisely Zabuza could recite his nightly routine. He never thought his master had cared all that much to pay any attention, let alone to count the times he flipped over. Perhaps the sake was making his memory better… or his mouth less controlled. "Maybe in a little while, Zabuza-san."

"Hm. You should have a drink; it'll make you feel better."

Surprised, Haku leaned back from the bottle shoved into his face. "Uh, Zabuza-san, I-I feel fine." How could he drink such an awful-smelling liquid? The only thing it made him feel was sick. Now he had to force a smile, shrinking away from his master. "I'm underage, besides."

"You're always such a goody brat," Zabuza growled out from his fangs. "Drink it, that's an order." Pleased with himself for finding one situation Haku couldn't get out of, Zabuza gave his consort the bottle.

Hesitantly, Haku held the bottle, breathing in the stale smell with disgust. The amber eyes flashed back up to his master. "A big gulp," Zabuza instructed, watching firmly but grinning with his sharp teeth. That would shut the brat up for a while. No smile could cover the uncertain face. With nothing else to do, Haku put his lips to the mouth of the bottle and splashed a mouthful down his throat, coughing violently at the sour fermented rice. Zabuza took the bottle back, which Haku was thankful for. All he wanted to do was throw up to get the taste out of his mouth.

"H-how can you drink that stuff, Zabuza-san?"

"Don't like it?" There was an odd grin on his master's face that Haku did not completely understand, so rather than answer, he just shook his head and turned back to the fire. Already, a fuzzy feeling was taking his senses, as if his muscles were asleep. Haku would have gladly fallen asleep as he was, but something tugged at his bun. "E-eh?"

"I like you with your hair down," Zabuza growled, pulling the wire and cloth off. The ebony hair fell like a velvet curtain over Haku's shoulders. Large, muscular fingers felt Haku's hair. He enjoyed the rare times Zabuza would touch him, it felt loving, almost compassionate. Zabuza wasn't the type of person to really expose his emotions, but these few moments were enough. "You should grow it longer."

"Alright, Zabuza-san."

Haku smiled. He smiled for the way Zabuza was talking so easily with him, for how close they were, and for the arm slipping around his shoulders, pulling Haku into the warm chest. He smiled because he had always wanted something like this, something to warm his fingers and toes. Zabuza leaned his head back against the cold tree bark, letting out a tired sigh. As long as Zabuza felt this way, Haku decided that it was alright to be more than a tool that night. Gently, he buried his face in Zabuza's firm muscles and rested an arm over his chest.

Yea, um. I don't know. One shot ….. read and review!!!


End file.
